Carya
by LordWhat
Summary: Poem fic. Sam and Dean disappear. Castiel is left behind. Warning: Character Death and mentions of suicide.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel knows prophecies.

He knows that the world  
was supposed to end  
with screaming  
and fire  
and two brothers  
tearing at each other.

In the end  
they pass that  
and the world is still standing.

The world really ends  
in a park.  
With the cold  
and darkness  
and silence  
and a  
discarded knife  
on the ground.

Or more accurately  
silence in response to a question

A very important question.

"Dean?"

The end of the world lasts  
for a long time before  
he tries again.

"Dean!?"

The world  
doesn't seem  
to be picking  
itself  
up.

"Sam!?"

He stands alone.

The wendigo is dead.

He made sure of that.

It hadn't hurt them.

"Dean!?"

It's dark  
as one would expect  
the world to be  
once it's ended.

It's cold.

He's scared.

Like you would expect someone to be  
as they stand  
dying from the inside  
out.

-  
10 demons have died.

Apologies.

11 demons have died  
at his hand.

And he's still in the dark  
with no answers.

He's still cold.  
He's still scared.

His brothers and sisters don't answer him.

Why should they?

He believes the last time he spoke to them  
he was surrounded  
by their kins'  
broken  
bodies.

Can you be a broken body  
while your heart still beats?

Logic and experience  
dictate  
yes.

-  
It's been a month  
of silence  
and he's back  
in that  
asinine  
park.

He sits on a bench,  
stares at the trees  
as if  
they will just  
walk out,  
laughing and  
clapping each other  
on the shoulder.

"_Dude, Cas you should have seen your face._"

They don't  
of course.

People are walking their dogs.  
A man sells burgers.  
A woman calls her daughter's name.

How sad.

The angels are unlikely  
to answer her either.

She calls her name again.

Marie.

Your daughter is gone.

Marie.

I said your daughter is gone.

Marie. I said get away from him.

Wait what?

There's someone  
tugging on his sleeve.

Marie.

"You're here a lot mister."

"Yes. I am."

"Why?"

"I am looking for someone."

"For a whole two weeks!?"

"I have been here a month."

"A month!?"

She sounds astounded.

Her mother leads her away.

How funny humans are.  
A month is nothing.

Remember.

Dean spent four months  
in his  
hell.

-  
A year.  
A year and he's still in the park.

-  
Brothers.  
Brothers please.

-  
If you can't find them  
you could at least  
talk to me.

-  
Please.

-  
Five years.  
Five years and he's still in the park.

-  
Marie.

She's coming over again.  
She must be  
12 or so now.

Marie, for God's sake just stay away from him.

How would that aid God?

"Don't you have a house?"

No.

"Sir?"

"No."

"So where do you live?"

"Marie leave him alone. I'm sorry."

She's dragged away again.

Her mother stops walking home through the park.

Or maybe Marie left school.

It hardly seems important.

-  
Ten years.  
Ten years and he's still in the park.

-  
"Hello brother."

He freezes.

Hester.

Why are you here?

"We heard you."

You have ignored me  
for so long.  
Why are you here?

"Because, Castiel  
we owe you  
an explanation."

...  
Go on.

-  
"You were one of us,  
our kin.  
We loved you.  
We love you still.  
But what you took from us-"

It's called ignorance.

"Don't call us fools."

I'm not.  
I'm saying  
you were hidden.

"And what?  
You showed us the light?"

No.  
I showed you the dark.

"You thought yourself king."

I know now that was wrong.  
I overstepped-

"You killed our kind."

I'm sorry.

"So am I brother."

Why?

"You know."

What did you do?

"We cannot kill you.  
The new order  
does not believe  
in capital punishment."

So what?

"If we cannot kill you,  
we will simply  
walk in  
and take  
your reason  
to live."

-  
It's anger.  
It's red.  
It's blood.

Where are they?

"So you strike me now?  
How low can you sink?"

Into Hell  
if you continue  
to push me.  
Where are they?

"With us."

Until when?

"Until we see fit,  
Brother."

And he's alone  
again.

-  
Twenty years.  
Twenty years and he's still in the park.

Come on.  
This is just getting  
repetitive  
now.

-  
"So where do you live?"  
Marie asks.

But not really.

He hasn't seen her  
in years.

But she still asks.  
"So where do you live?"

I don't know.

"Sir?"

I said I don't know.

"Sir, where do you live?"

I don't-

"Sir, what do you live for?"

I don't know.

I haven't known  
in years.

-  
Thirty years.  
Thirty years and he leaves the park.

-  
He walks the outskirts.

Steps over a stream  
and finds a path.

It leads him out  
onto a tarmac road.

Road.

He'd missed the road.

A car drives past.  
It beeps at him.

He moves.

The cars have changed again.  
They keep changing.  
Everything does.

Always.

Cars.

Castiel is an idiot.

Dean would kill  
Castiel if he were  
here.

_You forgot my baby!?_

Apologies.

But not really.

Because Dean didn't say  
a word.

He hasn't in years.

-  
The car is still there.  
It's rusty.

How quickly things grow old.

It's covered in dead leaves.

How quickly things die.

The park protests.

The trees hit him and reach for him  
as he passes.

_When we die  
we come back  
brighter than ever,_they say.

I've seen brighter, he replies.

_We have been  
here forever.  
We are old_, they say.

I've been older, he replies.

_Yes.  
But have you ever  
become young again?  
Renewed.  
Like us?_They say.

Just once, he replies.

And his fingers touch the rusted metal.

Once.  
I found a home.  
That was not a cold office.  
It was not the light and  
the cold of steel  
of heaven.

It was the warmth  
of an engine.  
And the dark  
of humans  
who have the  
silly need  
to paint  
their possessions.

The trees are silent  
as the impala is young again.

Maybe  
they're intimidated.


	2. Chapter 2

_You're breaking to much._

I'm sorry.

_If you break my car I am  
haunting your ass  
forever._

I'll do my best  
to crash her then.

_Dick._

-  
It's a week  
before he thinks to check the trunk  
when he finds Dean's old jacket  
a part of him wants to lecture him  
for going out  
in a park  
at night  
without it.

He could of caught his death.

Castiel shrugs of one dead man's coat  
for another's.

It smells like dust  
and rot.

He'd been hoping  
for oil  
and cologne.

-  
Forty Years.

Forty years and _this  
son of a bitch  
still can't  
drive my freakin' car right._

Dean.  
This is my internal monologue.  
Kindly shut up.

_Oh, blow me  
Knight Rider._

Dean...

_Wow real mature guys._

That goes for you too Sam.

-  
He hunts.  
Because he has nothing else.

He smites demons.  
Because they deserve to die.

He curses his brothers.  
Because so do they.

-  
His wings don't work.

He thinks  
heaven realised  
he didn't want them  
any more.

They were too heavy.

And there's a  
werewolf  
on his ass.

Son of a bitch.

-  
Fifty years.

He thinks they'd be proud.

He's_ saved a lot of people.  
You've hunted a lot of things  
dude._

_The family business._

Dean.  
Leave me alone.  
I'm trying to avenge you.

_Whatever,  
I'm not even here._

Go away.  
And let me grieve you.

-  
Sixty years.

A man thanks him  
for sending a ghost away.

He's a carpenter.

"Is there anything I can do?" He says.

Yes.

He leaves with two wooden crosses.

-  
Sixty years.  
Sixty years and he's back in the park.  
Pushing the crosses  
into the earth.

The Earth  
doesn't protest much.  
It probably realises that  
they're for the two  
that saved it.

-  
He lays with them.  
And pretends  
that they're on the hood of the Impala  
while he sits on the ground.

They drink.

They laugh.

Dean gets off the impala  
and sits next to him.

_Look, man._

Dean.

_I'm just saying  
you were around  
a long time  
before I came along._

So?

_So move the Hell on.  
I'm not worth this.  
It's been too long._

Oh Dean.  
Time has barely passed.  
Not really.

You never could see  
that you're worth it all.  
Everything.

_No, Cas.  
I'm not._

Yes you are.  
Now go away  
and let me grieve you.

Dean kisses him instead.

It tastes like air.

But he can see it  
so it must  
be real.

_Guys.  
I'll just uh-  
take the Impala then?_

Dean gives him a thumbs up.

_Jerks._

And Sam leaves.

But the Impala's still there.  
Strange.  
Where did he go?

It doesn't matter much  
because Dean  
pushes him down.

He parts his lips  
with his own  
and slides his tongue over his.

Castiel gasps  
and when Dean pulls away  
Castiel follows him.  
and curls his tongue around his.

Saying  
come back.

Dean does.

Castiel sighs  
pulls his mouth away  
to kiss Dean's nose.

He smiles.

I missed you.  
Dean.  
I missed you  
so much.

_Cas, I'm as here as I've been  
for a long time.  
I never went anywhere._

Oh.

Dean's hand pushes under his shirt.

His hand squeezes the back of Dean's neck.

_Yes he did,_ the trees say.  
_We were there._

Shut up.

Uh-

Dean's hips roll into his.

_Ca- uh. Cas I would never  
leave you.  
I didn't  
do that._

_Yes he did_, the Earth says.  
_We're holding his grave._

I said shut up.

Dean kisses his neck.  
Bites down.

_Cas I'm here._

_He's lying.  
He's lying._

_No I'm not.  
Cas  
I'm right  
here._

I'm not sure.  
Dean  
please.  
Please just- oh.

_Like I would  
just leave you.  
You'd go nuts  
without me._

Yes,  
I think I would.

In fact  
I think I have.

Suddenly he's alone.  
And cold.  
And it's dark.

_Told you,_say the trees.

_Told you, _says the Earth.

And he really hates the both of them.

-  
He sleeps  
for the first time  
in years.

Curled up  
under one of those  
trees.

He doesn't dream.

He does that enough when he's awake.

-  
"Excuse me."

Go away.

"Excuse me mister."

Marie.

Stay away from him.

"Sir?"

What?

She falters  
"Are you-  
are you real?"

Yes.  
Of course I am.  
Why wouldn't I be?

"Because you were here  
when I was a child."

Yes.

"You look the same.  
Well  
apart from the beard."

Yes.

"You were wearing a suit before.  
And a different jacket."

It's Dean's.

"But you look the same age.  
That's not possible"

That's because I'm an angel.

She laughs.

How old are you?  
Marie.

"I'm seventy seven,  
angel."

So it must have been  
seventy years  
not sixty.

His mistake.

"Can I ask you,  
if you're such an angel,  
what happens to people  
when they die?"

It depends.

"On what?"

On a lot.  
Who are you asking for?

She laughs again.

"Look at me," She says.  
"I'm asking for  
everyone  
I once knew."

There must be one  
in particular though.

She's quiet.

"Yes.  
My daughter."

What happened to her?

"She disappeared."

They never found her?

"Oh no,  
they found her  
alright."

I'm sorry.

Marie sits next to him.

She doesn't question  
the century old car  
opposite them.

They are quiet.

When Marie goes home  
she leaves her body behind.

-  
80 years.  
He thinks  
when he dies  
he'd like to die in the park too.

-  
"Hello brother."

Inias.

"Brother..."

Go away.

"Excuse me?"

I know you're not real  
none of you are real.

If I had a nickel  
for every time  
someone  
not  
real  
came  
here.

"I am real."

Go away.  
Please go away and just let me  
grieve my friends.

Inias goes away.

_You know,_ Sam says.  
_That one might have been real._

Shut up.

He decides he'd like more whiskey.

_You're really going for it.  
You're getting worse than me Cas._

I was always worse than you  
Dean.

-  
The world insists on  
turning still.

The monsters insist on  
killing more.

And the hunters insist on  
stopping them.

Of course they do.

There are always more hunters.

Castiel appears to have made  
a name  
for himself among them.

He'll get calls  
asking for help  
and what is he  
if not helpful.

He imagines  
nothing.

It's apparently a  
very important hunt,  
a demon ring.

He nods  
and takes in the information  
a quick shot of absinthe  
and they leave.

There must be 10 hunters.  
Apologies.  
11 hunters.

When they break into the warehouse  
it's screaming  
it's red  
it's rage  
it's the flash of a knife  
piercing their guts  
and setting them alight  
and the dark  
in their eyes  
as they fall to the ground.

He smiles  
and then the knife is knocked  
away from him.

He's thrown to the ground.

And what can he do?  
He can't kill demons without  
the knife,  
he can't  
raise his hand  
and burn the evil out of them.

It's not like he's  
an angel  
or anything.

He can't.

He can't  
stop the 19 year old boy  
that pulls the demon off him  
and stabs him  
with Castiel's knife.

He can't  
stop the other demon  
that walks up behind the boy  
and snaps his neck.

He can't  
stop himself  
from grabbing  
the knife  
from stabbing  
the demon  
and then cutting  
it's God damn  
head off  
even though  
it's already  
gone.

He can't  
make it better  
for the 11 hunters going home.

Apologies.

3 hunters.

He's only  
human.

-  
He can't  
stop himself  
crawling into the back seat  
of his car  
and hugging his jacket  
and crying  
for two faces  
that are  
beginning  
to  
fade.

-  
_Bitch._

Jerk.

Go away.

And let me  
remember you.

-  
_You need to  
pull yourself  
together._

Yes.

_Fight the good fight  
for us._

Yes.

_Don't forget us_.

Dean.  
Do you know how long it's been?

_Nah Cas,  
they don't exactly have  
calenders  
here._

100 years  
Dean.

100 years  
today.

Toast?

_Nah Cas  
they don't have  
vodka  
here._

Your loss.

And his

now he  
thinks about it.

"What's name did you say?"

Agent Livegren.

"Right  
why are you so interested  
in pagan myths?"

It's been a while  
since I've read up on them.

"Son  
no one reads any more.  
We have these  
crazy things called  
transfers now."

Yes  
exactly.

"Don't you have to  
go to school to be an FBI agent?"

I did go to school.

I was pre law.

"Pre law? What?  
The FBI full of  
drop out lawyers  
now?"

Logic would  
dictate  
yes.

"Figures."

-  
"Brother."

Inias.

Why the fuck  
are you here?

"Calm down."

Oh yeah.  
I'll calm down.  
When I've ripped  
your head from  
your shoulders.

"You're drunk."

Gosh  
you angels are  
so observant.  
When God made you  
he sure didn't  
lack with the observing  
technique.

"You speak like you're not  
one of us."

I'd rather die  
than be one of you  
pieces of  
scum.

"We thought-"

Wow  
did you  
tell the  
media?

"We thought  
without them  
you would see sense  
and come home."

Than you're an  
idiot.

"I'll come back  
when you're sober."

I think I left an opening for that  
next week.

"I'll check in then."

Inias?

I was being sarcastic

you dumb ass.


	3. Chapter 3

He makes sure  
he's drunk next week.

All week.

Inias shows up on  
the Thursday.

Castiel is choking  
on his own vomit.

He feels a hand  
on his back  
and he begins  
to cry.

-  
120 years.  
120 years and he's so  
so  
tired.

-  
"Brother we miss you."

I know.

"Will you ever come home?"

Will you ever give them back?

"No."

No?

"No."

Inias.

Do you remember  
when our Father made  
the Earth?

And we gazed down at it  
at the fire  
and the sea  
raging with new power  
and we thought  
meh  
not bad.

"Yes."

I mean  
compared to Jupiter  
endlessly huge  
and a never ending storm  
the Earth was nothing.

"I remember."

Compare it to Saturn,  
my personal favourite,  
beautiful beyond belief.  
Clinging to the ice  
and the dust  
and the rocks that passed it  
bringing them together-

"Castiel I said  
I remember."

The Earth was nothing.

"Yes."

So how surprised we were  
when our Father turned to the Earth  
and said,  
"you."

"I give life to  
you.  
Do with it  
as you will."

"What is your point, brother?"

My point  
Inias  
is that the Earth took the life  
and it destroyed itself.  
How much of the Earth  
has man laid to waste?

"Funny.  
You've always spoken  
in man's favour."

I still do.  
Because man is beautiful.  
To me more so than  
the Earth.

Man has made machines  
and cities  
they have broken down  
the very particles  
of what our Father gave them  
just because  
there was nothing else to do.

The angels say man  
has destroyed the Earth  
which is true  
in a respect.

But they did so  
by accident.

Do you not see  
the power in that?

That you could  
slowly  
destroy  
something so ancient  
without even meaning to?

And create civilisations,  
communities,  
families.  
That just go on  
and on  
and on  
surviving.

They are better than us  
brother.

"I disagree."

Inias.

The Earth is dying  
for them.

I'm begging you.

Kill me.

Kill me  
and bring them back.

"No."

Please.

"We just wanted you home."

You are the one  
that took my home  
from me  
you conditioned  
little  
drone.

"I see we will never  
reason with you."

Fine  
go.

And let me remember them.

"You are doing far more than that."

Goodbye.

-  
He sleeps.

He doesn't dream.

He wakes to fingers  
tracing his spine  
and the smell of oil and cologne.

Dean.

_Hey the coma patient's up._

They brought you back.

_Guess so._

I missed you.

_You've said._

I missed you so much.

_Are you gonna keep saying  
that  
or are you gonna do  
something  
about it?_

I'm gonna do  
everything  
about it you ass.

There's lips  
and there's red.

This red isn't anger.

It's fire.  
It's the  
glowing throb  
of a pulse.

There's air  
that is not empty.  
but breath in his ear.

And on his chest.

And

there's nails  
dragging along  
his ribs.

There's a mouth closing  
around him,  
his  
back  
arching,  
a hand  
running  
along  
his thigh.

There's cold as Dean's gone.

It feels like a waste  
for a second  
before their mouths  
touch  
again.

There's teeth  
and the tear of a lip.

An slow apology  
ghosts at his seam.

They break apart  
to breath  
each other  
in.

_Cas._

I'm here.

_Good._

A hand on his stomach  
his hips  
rock up  
and then  
the world's gone  
again.

Good.

Dean.

I'm so sorry  
I had started to forget  
how beautiful you were.

When he  
comes with his  
lungs screaming and  
his mouth  
gasping the most  
important question.

He's being held  
until he comes  
back down.

After  
when he's  
surrounded  
by nothing  
he's not surprised.

Of course they didn't bring him back.

-  
130 years.  
130 years and he's forgotten how beautiful he was.  
He only knows  
Dean was better  
than he ever will be.

-  
_So..._

So?

_You and Dean huh?_

Yes Sam.

_I'm happy for you guys._

Thank you.

_Really Cas. I am.  
It's just-_

No.

_What?_

There's nothing wrong here.

_He's gone Cas._

No.

_He died._

Sam. Stop it.

_Remember?_

Yes.  
Of course.

So did you.

_Oh yeah.  
I forgot that part._

Sam?

-  
A clap on his back  
in a crowded bar.

His friends.

Or as close  
as he's had  
in a long time.

160 years.  
In fact.

"Okay so,"  
says Josh  
who he's known  
for decades.  
"I'm getting run down  
by this vamp  
thing's going crazy  
'cause I killed her maker or some shit."

Another clap on the back.

"My man here  
shows up  
out of nowhere  
and cuts the  
things head off  
with a piece of wire!  
Can you say bad ass!?"

I assume most of  
the people here  
are capable of saying  
bad ass.

"Whatever Dean  
it was still  
totally  
insane."

Yes.

Yes  
it was.

He goes to the car  
after the rest of them have left.  
Or died.

He's not sure.

He's should probably get more ammo.

He opens the trunk  
and looks.

And he looks.

And he sees his old coat.

...

It's probably in the way of the ammo.

He grunts and pushes it aside.

A small square falls out.

He still hasn't found the ammo.

He picks it up.

It's a photo.

It's his photo.

One of the first things he owned.

Because they all  
got a copy.

Just in case.

There are six faces staring back at him.  
One of them is his.

And he's the only  
one  
left.

They're all  
alive here  
and  
beautiful.

Being the last one standing is exhausting.

He suddenly realises  
there's little point.

-  
200 years.  
200 years and he's back in the park.

200 years and he's aged more than he had  
in millennia.

200 years and he's parking near two rotten  
wooden crosses  
and turning off the engine.

And he's getting a blade  
from the trunk.

_Cas._

Dean.  
It's been a while.

_No- dude.  
Don't get in the car._

Get out of my way.

_I'm not letting you do this._

I said get out of my way.

_You are not dying because of me.  
Sto- Stop it!_

Dean, shut up and let me past.

_No. I get  
that I ruined you.  
I'm sorry.  
I regret everything about that.  
Please don't make me  
kill you too._

Dean you saved me.

From exactly this.

From sitting  
and waiting  
for the rest of forever.

You gave me my reason to live,  
really live,  
for the first time.

And now I'm old  
and you and Sam are gone,  
you've given me my reason  
to die.

_Cas..._

Dean. Just go away  
and let me join you.

_Okay._

_Okay but I'm not going anywhere._

He's lying. The trees say.

_Would you dicks shut up  
before I start making  
you into  
chairs!?_

Castiel moves and sits  
in the back seat.  
That had always felt  
more his place.

A body moves in next to him.  
He turns and lies against it.

Thank you.

The cuts are deep.  
He hisses and  
hands rub at his wrists  
before squeezing around them.

_Cas..._

I'll see you soon then.

Then it's silent for a long time.

He's cold  
because he turned  
the heaters off  
and the warmth behind him  
isn't real.

There's a glow in the car  
coming from him  
it's faint  
as if it isn't really trying  
to exist any more.

The last thing  
he's aware of  
is a hand moving from his wrist,  
which falls and  
thuds against the leather,  
and up to his eyes,  
running over them  
and sliding them shut.

He hopes he's going home.

-  
They say when an  
angel's grace leaves them  
it leaves behind  
a miracle  
of nature.

For some it's a  
storm  
raining down on a starving village.

For some it's a  
volcano  
in the middle of the ocean  
raging for it's lost power.

And for some it's a  
tree  
growing in the middle of a park  
wrapping an old car  
and two crosses  
in an embrace  
that would last for centuries.


End file.
